


Only For A Moment

by hislightherdarkness



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Angst, Deleted Scenes, F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27278650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hislightherdarkness/pseuds/hislightherdarkness
Summary: My take on the missing moment in Joker, heavy on the Sophie/Arthur.
Relationships: Sophie Dumond & Arthur Fleck
Kudos: 5





	Only For A Moment

Arthur’s mind is spinning, his heart pounding. He needs to see her, he needs his Sophie. How could Murray do this to him? How could he play his comedy clip and make fun of him? It felt like a betrayal, like the world was continually turning against him. That’s why he had to see her, he needed to be reminded of just how good the world could be. He stands in the elevator, thinking back to when he had first interacted with her, when she put her fingers to her head, mimicking a gun blowing her brains out. It was the best moment of his life, to have someone see him, someone speak to him like a normal person. He loved her from that moment on. 

All those times she had been with him, came to his door, not angry at his admittedly creepy behavior of following her, to that beautiful night when he made love to her, her having cake with him at the diner and her support for his mother, made his heart swell with love for her. Those memories burned into his mind, the last glimmering light in darkness. He needed to be surrounded by that light, to be reminded that he is safe and loved.

He stands before her door, his hand on the handle, turned it to feel it give way. She must have been expecting him, how wonderful, as if she knew he needed her. Quietly, he enters the apartment, his eyes roaming everywhere. Funny, he thinks, those paintings weren’t there before. Are they new? His hand runs over the child’s book bag, hanging on the rack. He hadn’t seen that before, nor the blanket on the sofa. Surely he would have remembered all of that, after all, he spent the night with her. 

He sits on her sofa, the cushions are comfortable, much more than his own. He takes in everything, the scents, the sounds, the sights. He feels as though he is in a daze, confused. Why did nothing stand out to him? Why did nothing look familiar?

“Again,” Gigi giggles, clutching her doll. 

“No,” Sophie softly says, a smile on her face, “No more stories, time for bed.” She stands, tucking her child in, placing a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, momma.”

Sophie turns off the light, closing the door behind her. She sighs, the day had been long, but she was ready to plop on the couch and let her mind wander. When she stepped out into the living room, her heart dropped to her stomach. A man was sitting on her couch, someone got into her apartment. A gasp escaped her lips, before she breathlessly asked, “What are you doing here? You are in the wrong apartment.” 

Looking closer, she could see that the man on her couch, dripping wet, was that man down the hall. “Your name’s Arthur, right? You live down the hall,” she says gently, hoping that she could coax him to leave without problem. He still sat there, not threatening, but his silence made her nervous. “I really need you to leave,” she softly pleads, her voice still kind, “My little girl’s sleeping in the other room. Please….”

He hears her voice, hears her words, but it doesn’t quite reach him. “I had a bad day,” he softly says, defeated. 

The way he said it, how sad he sounded, it touched Sophie. He wasn’t a bad guy, but she didn’t know him well enough. It didn’t take much for her to understand that he was shy, that he had some sort of issue going on with his mother. His mother never left the apartment, and the only time he ever seemed to leave was to go to work. They seemed to be each other’s worlds. “Is there anyone I can call? Is your mother home?”

A shiver runs up his spine. Something clicks, and he turns to her. She is standing by the doorway, her hands on her robe, clutching it closer to her. He lifts his hand up, mimicking a gun to his head, staring at her. She says nothing, but tears come to her eyes, a hand to her mouth. There is pity in her eyes, pity for a stranger. He thinks back to those moments with Sophie, her coming to his apartment, her seeing his stand up, comforting him in the hospital. He thinks about those moments where he didn’t feel alone, only to really understand, he was alone. His eyes plead with her, remember, remember the one moment in my life where it was good. You are the burning center of my world, please let me be the center of yours. 

Tears come to his own eyes, realizing that he wouldn’t be, could never be. Moving his hand back down to his side, he stands, his eyes glued to her. She continues to look at him, nervous but sad. He approaches her, but not in a threatening manner, otherwise she would have ran. She waits, hoping that he would just walk past her and leave. Arthur reached up and brushed his fingers against her cheek. Just one touch, he thinks, to see if you are even real at all. Her skin is warm, soft, and she doesn’t shy away. Sophie, his beloved Sophie, did more for him than any woman, any human being ever did, she let him be near. He wanted so much to hold her in his arms, to finally kiss her, a kiss to build a dream on, but he didn’t dare. 

She shivered against his touch, not because of fear, but because of how cold his hand was from the rain. The look in his eyes, those green sad eyes, as if begging for some human kindness, some sense of goodness. Her heart broke for him, what happened to him to cause such heartache? He seemed to stand before her for so long, as if afraid to break a thought, a dream. Eventually, his hand, which began to warm up, carefully slipped away from her cheek. He begins to go, but his eyes are glued to her. He seemed to find his way out without turning, his hand out, feeling for the door. She watched him as he did so, watched as he exited her apartment, his eyes bearing on her even to the last. 

She stood there a full minute before she moved to lock her door, shaky sobs escaped her lips. She had been terrified, that was true, but pity overcame her. He seemed so lost, more like an unloved child than a threatening adult. She wished she knew what she could have done to help him, but she had the feeling that he was never to come around again. 

He sits on his uncomfortable sofa, loud and harsh laughs escaping his body. He wants to cry, he wants so badly to be normal, but he can’t. Why couldn’t he have been normal? Why couldn’t he be the kind of man who would be worthy of Sophie? Why couldn’t any of it be real? All he had now was just the moment in the elevator, the one and only moment he felt truly seen. All that he had ever had.


End file.
